


The Bonfires of the Malfoys

by Bonfoi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Humor, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mystery, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:32:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3789955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonfoi/pseuds/Bonfoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of plotting and planning, Lucius Malfoy wants to regain his former noble position.  Too bad he decided to invite a demon to dinner when he did so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Prompt #18 (prompt at the end of the story)
> 
> Beta'd by my fantastic sister, EmJay, who overcame her squickiness to do another favour for me. Any mistakes remaining are mine alone. To the mods of HP Darkarts, who so kindly allowed me to play in this sandbox once more. And, to LRThunder for a great prompt that sprouted so many ideas!

_When rebuilding one's life, beware of one's enemies...dead and alive."_

~O~O~O~

Narcissa patted her lips with her napkin and set it to the right of her plate. Dinner had been lively, what with Draco glaring at Lucius from under his fine eyebrows, his current paramour valiantly attempting to navigate the animated silverware as it snapped at his fingers, and dear Lucius trying desperately to keep his temper as the crass boor once more opened his mouth to slaughter the English language.

Thankfully, a peremptory knock on the door drew everyone's attention—for which Narcissa was grateful for all of a minute.

"Lucius Malfoy, as a representative of Her Majesty's Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I am here to conduct your biannual probationary review." Harry Potter stood just inside the door, fidgeting. He nodded politely toward Narcissa. "I'm sorry to intrude, ma'am, but the order came down this afternoon that the review had to be conducted before midnight."

Draco put his elbows on the table, earning a scowl from his father and a chastising look from his mother. He leaned on his fists and just stared at Potter, giving Narcissa the unwelcome impression he was undressing the former Gryffindor with his eyes. She shuddered delicately and turned her attention back to Auror Potter.

A clatter and then shouting came from the hallway and Potter darted out toward the commotion. Lucius went to the door, saw what it was, and ducked back in, biting his lip. Narcissa, knowing that look of old, rose and went to the door herself.

Potter was trying to muffle his laughter with one hand while he stood well away from the situation. Two house-elves were angrily chattering up at a large red-headed Auror, who was wearing their dessert of fairy cakes. A carved vine from the wainscoting was creeping across the floor to wrap around one of his ankles. To add to the confusion, Astoria Greengrass stood mesmerized by the great ginger lump, her ever-present corgi yapping and bouncing all over the hall, her hands clasped melodramatically over her heart as she drank in the sight of so much manly pulchritude. 

Narcissa shook her head and returned to the table, taking her place as sedately as she could manage. Draco's latest fling—some Muggleborn from Prague—finally gave up his unequal fight with the spoons and forks and was eating what he could with his fingers, earning a black look from Draco before he turned his attention back toward the doorway. Narcissa saw Potter step back inside, the smile slowly fading away as he once more assumed his official face.

"If you would, Mr. Malfoy, I'd like to conduct the review in private. I think it will go more smoothly that way." Potter avoided looking anywhere but at Lucius, making Narcissa smile inside and causing Draco to throw a pantomime conniption fit as he tried to give their dinner guest a fork. 

Lucius gracefully rose from his chair and led Potter to another door, in the far corner. "We can be private in here, Auror Potter. The Blue Saloon is through here." He held open the door to the Blue Saloon. "Will your partner be joining us?"

Potter crossed the dining room and looked inside the Blue Saloon, assessing it. He had to swallow a laugh as he glanced over his shoulder. "Ah, not right away. Seems the house-elves took his uniform right off his back and that made Miss Greengrass faint, and now Ron's trying to revive her. There might also be a dog and a wooden vine having a fight for one of his ankles, so, ah..." He rubbed his right ear and let a grin slip out. "You don't mind, do you?" He looked toward Draco.

Ignoring Potter's eyes, Draco called out, "Father, shouldn't you have a witness?" He made to rise while steadfastly ignoring his guest's dour looks and grasping hand.

Lucius didn't spare his son a glance, even if he had to fight to keep a smirk from his lips. "No, Draco. I'm quite certain Auror Potter wouldn't dream of acting inappropriately." He waved Potter toward the door and turned toward his wife. "Narcissa, my dear, please see that Auror Weasley has his uniform returned as soon as possible, and that Draco's fiancée is shown to her room."

Draco blanched at the word _fiancée_ and sat down heavily, his dinner guest gave up and let the table with a pained expression as one of the salad forks stabbed his hand, and Narcissa stifled her sudden giggles with her napkin. The _piece de resistance_ was Auror Weasley protectively clasping an artistically swooned Astoria Greengrass to his chest. The fact that she had one hand caught in his waist-band seemed to be wilfully ignored by the others.

"Ah, could somebody tell me what to do with her?" he asked, a bemused, yet strangely excited, look on his face.

Just as Draco opened his mouth, Narcissa reached forward and rang a small crystal bell on her right. "Auror Weasley," she said with a scolding look at her son, "one of the house-elves will direct you to her room in the guest wing. I'm certain Astoria will appreciate your kind attentions when she recovers." A snort from the direction where Lucius and Potter were standing made Narcissa's lips twitch.

A house-elf appeared silently and tugged at Ron's trousers and then pointed up the stairs. Narcissa addressed the house-elf with a small smile. "Timms, please show Auror Weasley to Miss Astoria's room, and send some tea and sandwiches," she looked over at Ron, "and make those the robust sandwiches, please." Narcissa's smile widened a bit and she shooed Ron and his precious cargo out of the dining room.

Lucius cleared his throat. "You pardon, my dear." He ushered Potter past him and into the Blue Saloon.

Narcissa nodded at Lucius as he stepped into the other room. Her eyes returned to the other occupant of the dining table, blue eyes catching silvery grey in a speaking look. Draco shook his head at her unspoken question. Narcissa tilted her head to the right, eyes sliding toward the door Potter was behind and then back to Draco. Draco made an aborted negative, and then shrugged his shoulders, chin sinking to his chest as he huffed out a faint _yes, Mother_.

"I knew you were so inclined, my dear." Narcissa stood up, smirking at Draco's gobsmacked expression. "If you'd invite the young man to the garden party masquerade, and he is all that you desire, I'm certain your father can be resigned to such an association, Draco." She turned to sweep out of the dining room. "After all, I was not your grandfather Abraxas' first choice, and see how well that turned out for all concerned." She looked over her shoulder and said with a sharp toothed grin, "You could have been Bella's child, and not her nephew." And that the parting shot, she left the room with a tinkling laugh.

Draco put his elbows on the table, ignoring the now duelling butter knives by his plate, laid his head in his hands, and groaned. "Oh, Merlin, what am I going to do? Father will kill me before I can invite the git."


	2. The Garden Pary

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**  
The Garden Party  
**

>   
>  Harry J. Potter, Esq. ~  
> You are cordially invited to an informal garden party masquerade to celebrate the first of May, twelve o'clock until six o'clock. Masks and dominoes will be provided. Supper will be served at half-past four o'clock.  
> Please send your R.S.V.P. care of Draco Malfoy, through the Floo Network to Malfoy Dean, Warwickshire.
> 
> Yours truly,  
>  _Draco Malfoy, Baron Dean_  
> 
> 
> P.S. Potter, if you've one kind bone in your scrawny body, please, for Merlin's sake, listen to it and attend. It would please ~~me~~ my mother greatly. Says she owes you a great deal and all that rot.   
> 

~O~O~O~

Lucius looked at the guests milling about the formal gardens, masks adorned with feathers, gems, semi-precious metals, glass beads and even some decidedly odd Muggle bits and bobs. He may not be overly fond of all things Muggle, but the Lovegood girl had done something interesting with things she called 'can tabs'. He nodded to her as she fairly danced by on the arm of a tall, dark young man—he said something and Lucius recognized him as Zabini's boy, from Draco's year. He turned to his right, toward where Headmistress McGonagall was holding court behind a crowned porcelain mask adorned decorated with painted kittens chasing a ball of bright red yarn, and almost tripped over a slight young man with assorted cameras dangling from his neck...and no mask or domino.

Lucius' lip curled into a sneer, which he caught just before it reached maturity. "You are to wear a mask and domino, or be ejected in ten minutes, Mr. Creevy." He winced as a very bright flashbulb went off directly in his face. 

"Ah, yeah...yes, sir." Colin Creevy squeaked out before scuttling toward the tented entrance where all the guests were issued their masquerade accoutrements. He brushed past a couple in matching sky-blue dominoes in his rush to escape Lucius' scornful eye.

"A delightful idyll, Lucius." Lucius rolled his eyes at the words before turning to see who had addressed him. "It's been quite some time since we had time to frolic in your gardens."

The man's domino was black as night, his mask that of a chirurgeon of the Middle Ages, beak-nosed for the aromatics they'd put there in an effort. The voice was smoothly modulated, without a hint of roughness or accent. For an instant, Lucius cursed the masquerade charms that hid so many of his guests until the unmasking at five o'clock.

"Thank you, Mister..." he said leadingly. 

The other man merely smirked, a slight twist of the lips, ignoring the request for his name. "Oh, you shall recognize me at the unmasking, Lucius. Until then, I'm determined to enjoy my anonymity." The man bowed slightly and wandered away, leaving Lucius pondering if Severus Snape had decided to come out of hiding and reclaim his place in Wizarding Society, or if someone had decided to stalk around his garden party in excellent mimicry of that hero.

"Mr. Malfoy, thank you for the delightful invitation." A young woman with the mask of a wood nymph leaned close and whispered at him. She was wearing a barely closed domino that showed she was scantily clad underneath it, her charms almost completely accessible and visible for anyone who wished. She pressed closer, her soft, pillowy breasts squashing against Lucius' arm, and making him feel uncomfortable, and unaccountably, aroused. "I've always wanted to play in _your_ gardens. Will you show them to me?" she asked seductively. Where she touched him seemed to burn.

Fighting the fug clouding his senses, Lucius cleared his throat and carefully pulled away from the temptress. "I am honoured you're enjoying the gardens. Don't be afraid to explore them, the gardens, not mine Anything dangerous has been sequestered." He looked over her shoulder and nodded as if in response to someone. "If you would excuse me, miss, but I see my wife beckoning me." He slid away from the woman, feeling more in control once he was away from her presence.

~ OoO ~

The two figures wearing matching sky-blue dominoes strolled through the formal gardens, enjoying the sunshine and spending a few minutes with each group or guest they came across. Soon, they ran into Lucius and Narcissa, both of whom were a bit out of breath, but still the very pictures of relaxed nobility. The couples nodded to each other.

"Malfoy, thank you for opening your gardens to us," the taller man said. His mask was of Godric Gryffindor, a lion's mane of fine, curling golden wires and chips of yellow jade decorating it. He smiled widely, happily as he indicated his companion. 

"I second Godric's words. It is a gift to see so much abundant life being enjoyed." The other man, smaller, with a bit of a hunchback, waved toward a row of snapdragons and tulips living in harmony. "I once had a garden such as this, and Godric often took his repose there with me." He looked from Lucius to Narcissa, his eyes seeing more than their smooth surfaces. "Perhaps you two would walk with us? We spied a lovely niche with a bench by the swan pond and would welcome a few moments of conversation." 

Lucius was just about to plead a host's duties, but caught sight of the woman who'd importuned him earlier wandering in their direction. "Narcissa and I would enjoy a cose with two such discerning figures...Master Slytherin, Master Gryffindor." He held out his arm for Narcissa, and led them toward the swan pond.

~ OoO ~

"Madam, you make a most enchanting fairy queen. A veritable Gloriana."

Narcissa politely smiled at the man in front of her. "Pretty words to suit my beautiful garden and my party. Thank you for them." She held out her hand and he raised for a gallant kiss on the back of it, even as he crossed the line by tickling her palm wickedly. "My mother would say that was very continental of you, sir."

The man was hidden behind a bejewelled mask of rubies and diamonds, with thin golden wires dangling amethyst grape clusters curling around his temples. He smiled at Narcissaa and it was as if the sun had come out after a stormy night. Narcissa was suddenly filled with the longing to shed her clothes and dance in that warm, welcoming light. She leaned toward him, enthralled, her breath coming in soft gasps. She didn't flinch when he sneaked a hand beneath her domino and palmed her breast. In fact, she pushed her breast up and into the touch.

"Ah, continental...My mother has ties to Ancient Rome, so perhaps I'm just channelling the sparkling wit of my forefathers." He carefully groped Narcissa, a questing finger slipping inside her neckline just before a commotion near the swan pond broke the spell weaving around her.

Pulling her tattered composure around her, Narcissa pulled away from the hand attempting to worm its way inside her bodice with a sharp laugh. "Nay, sir. It is impolite to seek dessert before one has had supper. And, since I am the hostess, I must see to everyone's desires." She turned away with a brittle smile on her face, chastising herself for letting such forward comments fall from between her lips, and mortified that someone other than Lucius could have gotten her so hot and bothered, so quickly, and in public!

~ OoO ~

Wandering through the formal gardens, wearing a brilliant red domino that clashed with his red hair and a simple mask with a checkerboard of black and white velvet, Ron wondered what had possessed him to attend a garden party at Malfoy Manor...and then he remembered Astoria's soft lips as she kissed his cheek in thank you the first time he met her, and her small hand trying to feel him up when she feigned a faint. He was in a bit of a daze when he ran into someone.

He looked down and saw a young woman wearing a pink domino, with roses on her mask. Without saying a word, he turned her more fully toward him and he kissed her, thoroughly. 

"Ow!" Ron reared back and put a hand to his lips, coming away with a smear of blood. "Bloody hell, Astoria!"

The woman pushed away from him with a dark scowl and stomped her foot. "Ronald Bilius Weasley, you are an ignorant fool!" She pushed her mask aside, so incandescent with anger that her hair was being to crackle. "It's me, you...you git...Hermione!" She slapped him, hard enough that he stepped to the side, which meant he was in the path of a mother swan and her brood...

Ron didn't stand a chance. He was off-kilter and the swan mother was being protective, and thus, he found himself pitching top over tea kettle into the swan pond while Hermione, mask replaced over her laughing face, turned away. "Oh, Ron, you deserved that," she called over her shoulder with a wave goodbye and a light step away from the pond.

Another young woman, with purple and pink roses on her mask, halted at the edge of the pond and crossed her arms. Ron looked at her, wiped the water from his face, forgetting there was duckweed and slime stirred up from his plunge, and smearing it across his cheek. "Ah, Astoria?" he asked diffidently.

"Ooh!" She threw her hands up in the air and spun away from him. "Men!"

~ OoO ~

Draco lounged against the garden wall, one foot planted on the wall, the leafy pattern of his domino such that it acted as camouflage. He knew Potter had replied in the positive, but the damned masquerade charms wouldn't let him discover what mask the Bespeckled Git was behind. Thus, Draco fumed in solitary splendour, surrounded by his mother's guard roses.

At least, he was alone until a lanky man fell through the roses. The man muttered and grumbled as he carefully detached his domino—sable brown velvet embroidered with so many fluttering leaves in a variety of greens that Draco thought he had the better camouflage—from the wickedly sharp thorns of the roses. He looked up, and his mask was that of a Green Man, verdant green eyes glinting from behind silk and wool felt leaves and vines.

"Oi, Malfoy, you think you could help me here?"

"Potter?" Draco stood up properly and reached for a rose plant trying to wrap around Harry's thigh. "I should have known. Only you could overcome the masquerade charms," he said with a surprised chuckle. He bent forward to push the determined cane away and found his nose inches away from Harry's hip. When Potter wriggled, he had to put out his hands to stay upright, and his face was turned into the prat's crotch—which wouldn't have been a hardship (A hardship! Draco snickered internally.), but Potter had far too much clothing in the way.

"Uh, ah...Malfoy? I think you should stand up now." Potter's voice was a bit thin, and strained. He even sucked in a startled breath when Draco's hands tightened on his hips as he stood up. Once he was upright, he was looking into Potter's eyes, noticing how wide and wild they were looking.

"What brings you to this corner of the garden, Potter?" Draco finally asked. He realized they'd been staring into each other's eyes for at least a couple of minutes, since the roses had once more crowded close to Potter's posterior. He leaned around Harry. "Behave yourselves, you pernicious plants, or I'll let the gardens prune you to within an inch of respectability." The rose canes leaned away from the pair, but not before snagging Potter's domino and dragging the hem with them for a bit before releasing it.

Potter laughed suddenly, joyfully, and Draco was amazed at how the Green Man's mask was so fitting for him. 

"I'd have thought a bloke with leaves on his face would be immune from vicious plants." Potter stepped around Draco and leaned against the wall, so Draco returned to his former spot, and they rubbed shoulders for several minutes in silence.

The bees buzzed, the roses moved in the breeze, and suddenly, Draco felt lighter. He looked over at Harry, catching him looking back. "So, ah, thanks for coming, Potter" Draco said.

"No hardship, Malfoy. I wanted to come back in daylight to see the garden...and you can Harry, Draco."

"Well, I..." Draco blushed. "I will... _Harry_." _Not that he hadn't been calling him by his name for years, but just not where Harry could hear him...thank Merlin!_ "So, enjoying your first garden masquerade?"

Harry shrugged. "The food's good. The costumes are simple enough even I can put one on and not get it wrong," Harry replied with a chuckle. He bumped shoulders with Draco. "One thing, have you been mixing and mingling? Some of your guests are getting weird and frisky.

"I mean, I just saw a man with grapes hanging from his eyebrows groping a fairy queen and somebody with really blond hair was getting hit upon by the most well-endowed plant lady I've ever seen." Harry looked into Draco's eyes. "I thought that was you, getting accosted, but the posture was all wrong, so I'm guessing it was your dad." Draco bristled at the implication, but Harry rushed to disabuse him of any ill thoughts. "No, no, not like that. If it was your dad, he gave a good showing. He didn't fall for her charms or anything. Very classy, he was."

Draco loomed over Harry, pulling himself to his six inches taller than Harry height. "Then, you're impugning my mother. She's supposed to be the only fairy queen in the garden..."

"Oh, come off it, Draco. I said she was being groped, not that she was participating," Harry bit out in reply. "She was a real lady, from what I could see." Before he could say more, squelching steps came closer to their hiding place, and Harry put a finger up to his lips in the acknowledged _shh_ sign.

"Bloody hell, Astoria, how was I supposed to know I was pinching Hermione's bum? You both're wearing rose dommy-things, and from behind, you're both awfully similar."

"Ronald Weasley, as I live and breathe, you have a rock above your shoulders. I told you I'd arranged to have a rose mask, _with violet and pink roses_ on it, and not anything as plebeian as white roses," she sniffed disgustedly, "such as Miss Granger was wearing." The sound of slap against wet garments punctuated the comment.

"But, I told you, I broke up with her. Months and months ago. I was looking for you, Astoria. Honest." The footsteps halted just on the other side of the wall where Harry and Draco were hiding. Weasley's voice grew warmer and deeper. "If you'd only break the engagement to Malfoy, then I could properly do the courting thing." A muffled shriek of surprise gave way to the sounds of amorous determination, making even the roses blush at how _earthy_ they were becoming.

Finally, there were mingled soft sighs, and Astoria spoke again, this time with a thread of humour in her voice. "Oh, Ronald, I wish I could, but you know how determined my family is to gain power once more."

"If it's about power, you know I'm friends with Harry. He'd help us. We just have to ask him." Weasley's earnest entreaty was lost in another kiss, a very noisy kiss.

Harry looked into Draco's eyes, searching for something. He must have found it because he chuckled quietly. "You don't want to marry her as much as she doesn't want to marry you." It was a statement of fact. "Well, if that's what you want, why don't you talk to your dad and ask his advice?" Harry looked over the roses, wincing a bit when two of the plants began duelling with their exceptionally long spikes.

"I'd have to have good reason to break the engagement, Harry." Draco scuffed his boot tip into the gravel and dirt, thinking. "But, if you _and_ I could approach him, I mean, he was quite pleased with how the probationary interview turned on..." Draco turned suddenly and grabbed Harry's shoulders. "Would you come with me? As a, as a friend?"

Harry's ears were burning, so hot Draco thought he might ignite from the heat. He smiled to himself, earning another assessing look from Harry. Then, he nodded once, sharply, and stuck out his hand. "You've got a deal, Draco. If it means Ron will be happy, I'll do it." His hand stuck out in the air between them.

"Oh, no, Harry, for something this big," Draco swallowed as he gave into his impetuous side, "we need to seal this with a kiss." He swooped down and captured Harry's bottom lip, Harry's jaw dropping at Draco's actions. Then, they were kissing, open-mouthed explorations of teeth and tongues with excessive amounts of moaning and exploratory touching.

~ OoO ~

The sound of a camera clicking and the flash of a bulb going off brought Draco and Harry back to their senses. Both of them huffed and glared at the intruder, arms still around each other as Draco manoeuvred them to better glare at the photographer.

"Colin Creevy, I know it's you," Harry said gruffly, "even if you are wearing mask."

"Hi, Harry!" Colin bounded forward, through the roses, seemingly ignorant of the sharp thorns stabbing at him. Draco stared at one particular thorn rearing back and poking the prat over and over and over as he spoke with Harry. "I was wondering if I'd find you here. But, snogging with Malfoy? That's news!"

Draco let go of Harry and lunged at Creevy. He was growling under his breath.

"Draco! Draco!!" Harry yelled. "It's okay." He hauled Draco back to his side. "There's no way Colin can print that picture." Draco and Colin both gaped at Harry. "Hermione helped me with a charm that makes it difficult to take my picture when I'm having a...ah...private moment." Harry flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. 

"Some folks, Romilda Vane and that kind, wanted pictures of me," he made a wanking motion with his right hand, "you know, _doing it_. So, Hermione created the charm for me." He looked earnestly at Draco. "I never wanted to share my private life, Draco, so you're safe."

Draco looked down into Harry's face and smiled softly. "Thank you for that, Harry." Without tearing his eyes away from Harry, Draco addressed Colin: "Now, take your camera and those bulbs and hie yourself away from here, Creevy. And if I see you lurking in any bushes, I will put them where you'll be photographing your spleen." Neither one of them noticed Colin's gulping and fluctuating colour as he backed away from them and then hot-footed it around the garden wall.

~ OoO ~

Shrewd eyes surveyed the guests from behind their mask. A word here, a nod there, everyone was ever-so-polite. A smirk twisted mobile lips as the surveyor weighed and measured each obscured person, even the Malfoys. None of those wearing hexed masks noticed anything odd about their behaviours while wearing them, and during the garden party, no one spoke to another about anything untoward.

A soft laugh parted the surveyor's lips. This little test had gone off swimmingly. Yes, the tainted masks had done their jobs well. Now to move on to the rest of the endeavor...


	3. The Masquerade Ball

~O~O~O~

**  
**  
The Masquerade Ball  


 

Two months later, when stories about the Malfoy garden party had been surreptitiously circulated and dissected, another invitation, written in an old-fashioned hand, was sent out:

>   
>  You are cordially invited to a two-day event occurring during Samhain also known as All Hallow's Eve. Please join us Friday at four o'clock for high tea. At half-six, we will hold a silent auction for charity—the person or persons holding the most Galleons at the end of the night will chose the charity to receive their donation—making for an evening of good will and jollity. 
> 
> Saturday's events will begin with luncheon at noon, followed by an afternoon ramble at three o'clock to the Abbey of Potterfeld, and then a masquerade dinner six o'clock for those staying with us. The ball will commence at seven o'clock. The Samhain bonfires will commence an hour after moon rise. A breakfast Sunday morning will be available from six o'clock to eleven o'clock in the morning. 
> 
> Those with children will be pleased to note there will house-elves and nannies available during your stay. All children in attendance will be housed in the east wing during Friday and Saturday's mature festivities and enjoying their own activities in safety. 
> 
> If you cannot attend Friday, please join us Saturday for dinner and the Samhain masquerade. The unmasking will commence at moon rise. The bonfire area will be available to all guests until dawn. 
> 
> Please use the included R.S.V.P. card for your responses. When complete, merely send through the Floo Network to Malfoy Dean, Warwickshire.
> 
> Your humble hosts,
> 
> _ Lucius Malfoy, Earl of Mal-on-Dean  
>  Narcissa Malfoy, Countess of Mal-on-Dean  
>  Draco Malfoy, Baron Dean _

~O~O~O~

Lucius stood at the top of the eastern formal staircase and looked down on the guests mingling in the expanded foyer. Narcissa had done a wonderful job decorating the foyer and grand ballroom as an idealized Greek temple surrounded by sacrificial glades hosting altars to Hestia, Zeus, Hera, and the rest of the Greek gods in delightful, artfully lit niches and a nod or two to their Druidic history. He did raise an eyebrow a couple intent upon making an early 'sacrifice' to Aphrodite on the shell-shaped altar just outside the ballroom doors to the garden. Shrugging it off as an excess of high spirits and poor planning, he gathered his retinue and, with a subtle signal, he made his grand entrance to the sound of hunting horns.

"Welcome, one and all, to Malfoy Manor. Thank you all for gracing our humble home with your attendance. Please follow Narcissa and myself as we lead the way into the Grand Banquet hall." His retinue—six house-elves wearing floppy ears and dressed in brilliant white sheets with large red splotches that looked remarkably like the spots on hunting dogs—blew their hunting horns once more as Lucius held out his arm for Narcissa.

"Thank you for greeting our guests with Draco as they arrived, my dear." Lucius leaned close to his wife, sniffing her perfume appreciatively. She smelled of spring flowers, newly mown hay...and fertility. He took in a deep breath once more and gave her a not-so-chaste kiss at the back of her right hand. "You are the epitome of fecund womanhood, my queen," he breathed over her knuckles. Then he straightened up and nodded to several guests, smiling and saying a few words as they made their way through the crowd to their seats.

Narcissa inclined her head regally, her coiffure decorated with twining, flowering vines moving gracefully as she did. "I enhance my king's prestige, Lucius," she murmured in a soft tone. She accepted his gallantry and took the seat he pulled out for her with a smirking smile, looking at the other tables as the dinner guests took their seats as well. When Lucius sat beside her, Narcissa reached out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, drawing his attention back to her. "You are looking most attractive as well, my husband. I never knew seeing you shod in hose and a short tunic would be so...enticing." Her fingers fluttered across his pulse point, making him squirm.

"My dear, you seem a bit...amorous tonight," Lucius said huskily. "I look forward to the bonfires with great anticipation." He ignored the kick that came from his right, where Draco was seated ogling a messy-haired Puck who was merrily laughing at something a strapping Godric Gryffindor said. He also ignored the strange feeling that things were not as they should be.

~ OoO ~

Sharp eyes glanced over the dinner guests, snapping from one to another, assessing the disguises that had been _changed_. Soon, the rest of the costumed idiots would be in attendance, and then the real fun would begin.

A soft touch on the surveyor's hand and those eyes turned to the dinner companion to the right, an elderly, Scottish Morgan le Fay. Chuckling, the surveyor replied to her comment. "Yes, I agree. The new fashions _are_ scandalous. But, wouldn't you wear them if you had a body like the woman at the table behind us?" They both glanced over their shoulders, eyeing the Hecate dressed in an artfully tattered black tunic as she draped herself across an Incubus' arm as she reached for a spice jar.

Both watched with interest as the people on either side of the pair tried to scoot away surreptitiously, eyes rolling at the lascivious display. Snickers and hissed whispers were going around, and not just concerning those two—neither of whom deigned to notice anyone but each other. And so dinner went on, islands of lascivious doings and clouds of determined disinterest and an undercurrent of wistful envy. The surveyor was delighted.

~ OoO ~

A gong sounded at quarter to seven o'clock and the diners began to leave their places, led by Narcissa and Lucius and Draco in their wake. As he passed the messy-haired Puck, Draco plucked him from his seat with a growled mutter at the man he'd been conversing with. The foursome entered the Grand Ballroom with a theatrical fanfare from the house-elves-cum-hounds.

"Oh, Mam'selle Titania, _tres magnifique_!" the French-sounding Lorelei gushed. Everyone nearby shuddered delicately as the underlying song of her voice passed through them. Her escort, Godric Gryffindor, looked down at her with an openly lascivious grin, his posture both protective and lustful. " _Le temple Aphrodite_ is perfect! _Mon Coeur_ husband took me there for the summer rites last year."

The surveyor vibrated along with the Lorelei's sing-song words, breath coming faster as the siren's power rippled through the nearby crowd. _"I hadn't thought of my own reaction to the creature magic,"_ the surveyor thought in a panic. _"What if I **become** caught up in this?_ " A measuring gaze became wide-eyed with dread as Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw approached.

"Good Merlin, how are you enjoying the masquerade so far?" Helga asked with a simper. She was making cow-eyes and pressing against his arm, one of her hands palming his buttocks. "Such a strong Merlin you are. Do I know you, good sir?" Her words were one question while her eyes were asking 'will I soon know you carnally?'

"Oh, Helga, restrain yourself. The ball's only just begun and already you've molested six men and two women, and revealed several dalliances in the process." Rowena crossed her arms and gave a testy glare down at Helga. "I find such behaviour boorish, my dear. There are other activities, such as dancing, that are available." She straightened up even more than she already was as a towering, black rabbit hopped past, a nymph on its arm. "I have never danced with a coney. That would be a unique experiment." She stalked away after the pair, leaving Merlin to Helga's tender mercies while Morgana muffled her snickers in her sleeve.

~ OoO ~

Lucius stood on a dais just below the Greek temple of Dionysus. Grape vines, heavy with fruit, scented the air. His Gloriana, in all her fairy glory, was seated behind him, laughing at something Salazar Slytherin said in response to his Puck's quips. He breathed deeply, Narcissa's perfume and the musky scent of the grapes cleaning out the fug of massed bodies. He snapped his fingers and his pack appeared before him, their hunting horns hanging down their backs. "Open the door to the gardens. A cleansing breeze would be pleasant as well." They disappeared to do his bidding.

"Dear Gwynn, come and rest at my side. Salazar has been regaling me with insights into some of our guests," the fairy queen said laughingly. She reached out and caught his hand, drawing him back toward his own seat.

"And what insights are so humorous?" he asked as he sat down.

"Salazar has pointed out that our Merlin is being pursued by none other than Helga Hufflepuff, who in turn, is pursued by a determined Selkie." The fairy queen pointed toward a corner of the ballroom where Merlin was currently standing on a step and looking frantically over the heads of Helga and the Selkie. She waved her hand toward a temple gleaming with golden accents. "In the temple of Apollo, we have a rabbit over six feet tall and a nymph. They seem to be ready to enact a different ending to the tale of Apollo and the dryad." With another wave, she indicated the temple of Aphrodite near the ballroom entrance. "And there are several couples already making sacrifices on the altar of Aphrodite, some in the most scandalous of manners." She tittered a bit as a couple, an dark-skinned incubus and a auburn-haired swan girl ran giggling from the aforementioned facade, hand-in-hand.

Another long-bearded figure stood in the magnificent doorway of the ballroom, dark, piercing eyes looking over each costumed guest. A murmur ran through the room as more and more guests saw the bright purple robes and the golden-tasselled toque on that grey head. _Dumbledore! Who would dare to attend as Albus?_

~ OoO ~

Gwynn ap Nudd shivered to life, sniffing the air. He knew the scent of fear and evil, and the whiff coming from the crowd before him made him grip his fairy queen's hand tightly.

"Gwynn, my liege, what is it?" she asked softly. 

"There is a dark soul here, my queen, a soul that belongs in my Wild Hunt."

Puck popped up at his side, a devil-may-care grin on his green-tinted face. "My lord of the night, might I be of service? These mortals know not what they have invoked, and not what these shells may do with our grace." He bowed comically and vaulted over Gwynn and the fairy queen to land in Salazar's lap.

"Warn a body when you do things like that," Salazar huffed out as Titania laughed delightedly.

"Robin Goodfellow you may be, but this requires thought..." Gwynn's voice faded away as he looked over the dancing crowd. "Yes, yes, Puck, I do believe you may be useful after all. Bring me Albus Dumbledore, but slowly, Puck. Take Salazar with you." Puck jumped up from Salazar's lap and grabbed his hand, tugging the wizard onto his feet, and then they went down the stairs of the dais, Puck leading the way as Salazar grumbled behind him.

The pair wove between and around dancers, breaking up patterns and couples as they did, leaving chaos in their wake. They broke up an unhappy Merlin and Helga Hufflepuff, the Merlin thankfully slipping away into the crowd as Helga merely turned and grabbed another partner, this time a Kelpie that seemed very _not adverse_ to her amorous attentions.

Puck pinched Albus' bottom with a cheeky grin that didn't reach his eyes. "You're wanted by Himself. Being as you served his purpose at the end, you should know he doesn't like being kept waiting." Salazar rolled his eyes at the biting edge of Puck's words, but waved Albus toward the dais and Gwynn ap Nudd and his fairy queen.

~ OoO ~

Merlin ducked behind a Doric column, breaths coming in panting gasps. He'd felt the magic of the masques washing over him, and the Malfoy home magic holding as the other spell did its work. He shuddered as his body attempted to turn itself inside out in an attempt to hide from the beings unleashed by the Dark Magic. Within minutes, a curvaceous woman, her dark hair almost reaching the floor and her arms dripping with gold bangles and chains carved with snakes of all kinds, stood where Merlin had been. She ran her hands down her body, plumping her breasts as she wandlessly transfigured her robes into a revealing, heavily embroidered peasant top and artfully tattered skirt that barely hid her new assets. She smiled tightly and stepped from behind the column and straight into the chest of scowling, growling Selkie.

"Sev—," the Selkie bit off the rest of the name as he glanced behind the woman. "Beg pardon, Baba Yaga. I seem to have lost my ma—, my date." She didn't miss the aborted word, smirking to inside as he excused himself and began to searching in another direction.

Baba Yaga stepped back into the swirling mass of dancers, plucking a surprised Pooka from the arms of a glaring nymph dressed in filmy scarves in a variety of blues and a magical mist floating above her shoulders. They spun away from the nymph, the Pooka looking down at her with narrowed eyes. "I was dancing with my date...ma'am. And I didn't want to change partners, either," he said in clipped tones.

Baba Yaga pressed against the Pooka, doing something in the hip region that had him blushing and missing several dance steps. "I was drawn to your power, great Pooka," she said in a throaty whisper against his Adam's-apple. "I want to see how your transformative powers do...in the bedroom." 

The Pooka stopped, dropped his arms, and stepped away from Baba Yaga. His eyes narrowed and suddenly there was a fiery-eyed, giant dog standing in front her, growling. It stalked forward and bared its teeth at her. "I'd rather bite a skin full of poison than touch you, fiend. You don't belong here and Gwynn shall know of it." The Pooka-dog took two steps back and disappeared even as Baba Yaga was waving her fingers in a deadly hex.

~ OoO ~

Suddenly, Puck stilled and his head went back, his nose quivering as if he smelled something dangerous, and _wrong_. He turned toward Baba Yaga, a growl so low that it vibrated through everyone close enough to hear it. The Hounds of Gwynn ap Nudd picked up their horns and blew a hunting call, flowing away from the dais and toward Baba Yaga. The musicians took up a sinister, but lively gavotte, the ballroom darkening as shadows rose up each wall, even across the garden doors, and dimming the half-moon's light.

Gwynn ap Nudd rose slowly from his throne and held out his hand to help his fairy queen rise from her seat. They stepped down into the dancing throng which parted with bows and curtsies, opening a path toward Baba Yaga. His Hounds surrounded her, teeth bared and horns held menacingly, as the royal pair—and Albus Dumbledore, Salazar Slytherin, and a feral-looking Puck—approached her. As they came to a halt, the music reached a chilling crescendo, and the very air stilled around the group.

"Baba Yaga, sister from the East, we did not call you to this home," Gwynn said in a voice like rolling thunder. Everyone in the ballroom, perhaps everyone in Malfoy Manor, shook with its contained power. "You have tampered with mortal magicks in a most base manner."

Titania put her hand on Gwynn's arm, drawing his attention to her. "Allow me, my dark lord." She took a step in front of him, her mien chilling as she looked the great witch up and down with a faint sneer. "This may be a time of the dead, a celebration of ancestors, but you were not invited to enter the mortal realm, demoness." She snapped her fingers and Puck crept forward to her side. She asked him, "Puck of Mal-on-Dean, spirit of this land, guardian of its flora and fauna, its inhabitants mystical and magical, do you deem this interloper a danger?" Everyone waited with bated breath for his answer.

Bounding forward, Puck sniffed the air and made a moue of distaste. "My Lady, My Lord, and all your minions, this being belongs to Death..." Everyone held their breaths as he leaned forward, his words dropping into the sudden silence. "This demoness belongs to the Wild Hunt." Puck looked over his shoulder at Gwynn ap Nudd, received a nod, and turned back toward Baba Yaga. He suddenly shouted, "To arms! To arms! The Wild Hunt rides tonight!!"

Albus Dumbledore fell back a step as almost half the guests changed before his eyes. Gwynn ap Nudd grew larger, fiercer, and lost his substance. Titania's warmth bled away and she was cold as moonlight, bright coloured sprites flocking to her side. The Pooka-dog appeared behind Baba Yaga, teeth snapping at her. The Hounds were no longer house-elves but real red and white beasts, yipping and circling around Baba Yaga. The Founders of Hogwarts stepped forward and began a spell in ancient Latin.

"Bloody hell," Albus muttered under his breath. He jumped a bit when a small hand wriggled into his.

"Professor Snape, do you see what I see?"

He looked down and saw Hermione Granger dressed as Hecate clutching his hand, her eyes on the tableau in front of them. "I see...something, Miss Granger."

"We're seeing magic at work, Hermione." Severus turned his head to look his lover in the face.

"Remus," Severus breathed out. "Do you feel it? There's a tugging..." He shook off Hermione's grasp. "I want to...It's as if I'm being called to participate."

"No, Severus, you're not. What you're feeling is the hex on all those people and their costumes blending and changing with the magic of Samhain." Remus put his arm around Severus. "Watch. Lucius and Narcissa are no longer there in front of us," he murmured. "Those really _are_ the Wild Huntsman and a fairy queen. The Hounds of Gwynn ap Nudd are really circling the interloper disguised as Baba Yaga...and Harry has become Puck."

"Do you know who that is as Baba Yaga, Remus?" Hermione asked. She was at his side now instead of Severus'.

Remus nodded slowly, his gaze never wavering from the scene playing out in front of them. "I have a guess. Rita Skeeter came by my office in the Ministry a month ago, sniffing around after some story about possession by spirits on the rise."

"Skeeter? She tried to get into the Department of Mysteries just two weeks ago," Hermione blurted out. Severus looked around Remus to stare at her.

"So you're an Unspeakable, are you, Miss Granger?" Severus asked rhetorically. "How is it you can speak of this?"

"I, um, I think we're not really under our law of magic right now, Professor." She huddled next to Remus. "I feel a bit adrift, if you must know, and I think that means there are different rules of magic operating right now." Remus put his arm around Hermione and drew her close with an admonishing glare at Severus.

Severus stroked his beard and realized the know-it-all was correct: he too felt magically different, as if he were a bit _more_ than when he'd put on his disguise. "You may be correct, Miss Granger, but what can we do about it?"

She shook her head. "I don't think there's anything we _can_ do about it." Hermione pointed at Baba Yaga. "I think the Wild Huntsman is in control right now."

A chorus of mournful howls filled the air.

~ OoO ~

Baba Yaga cackled in the face of the amassed power before her. "Oh, you dear spirits! Do you think mythical baddies can overcome a Death Eater?" she shrieked. Baba Yaga's face melted away like dew on a summer morning to reveal Rita Skeeter. The reporter glared around her and held up a finger, the nail growing into a sharp, deadly talon. "Watch, you shades of the past, just watch..."

She drew the talon down her face, the skin parting under the pressure to reveal the muscle and bone beneath it. As Rita Skeeter's face sloughed off, the bloody matter revealed bubbled and reformed itself into the horrid physiognomy of Bellatrix Lestrange. "See, wittle ones, see! My Dark Lord Voldemort let me a gift, a gift I could use when the stars aligned and a fool called on Samhain magicks to cause mischief." She looked into the crowd, directly at a Redcap with a necklace of cameras. "The Muggleborn played into my hands, begging Circe and all the powers to be a better snoop." She cackled once more in vicious glee.

"I didn't do anything wrong," the Redcap cried out. He wormed his way through the crowd to thrown himself at Gwynn ap Nudd's feet. "My dread lord, I didn't pray or sacrifice or anything. I just made a stupid wish that I _knew_ wouldn't come true." He pressed his face into the marble floor and whimpered.

"Rise, Redcap, rise and take your place in my host this night," Gwynn murmured heavily. "I hold this not against you, but against the creature that seeks to pervert my time and my festival." He snapped his fingers and the cameras were gone and the Redcap's hat was dripping with crimson gore as he joined the circle around Bellatrix.

Titania glided forth and put her icy hand on Bellatrix's face, burning her with its frigid touch. Unfortunately, as she tried to move away, she found she was caught fast in the fairy queen's light touch. Titania leaned forward and sniffed daintily. "I smell your fear, demoness. It spoils the air of this ball, it taints the land of this home." She raked her fingers lightly down Bellatrix's face, leaving a line of welts that were blue with cold. She tilted her head to the side as she studied the wounds. "I believe it is time for my own dark liege to commence his hunt as the Samhain fires are now lit." At her words, the sound of crackling wood and the smell of burning wood wafted through the open garden doors.

"As my queen commands." Gwynn reached up into the air and pulled a ram's horn from it. He raised it to his lips and blew. Only those who were changed responded, forms and figures morphing into their mystical counterparts and taking their places at the Wild Huntsman's side. "I call the Wild Hunt to banish the wicked, to punish the evil," he cast a stern glare over Bellatrix, "and to relieve the living world of darkness dead and buried." He threw the ram's horn up and it disappeared, but as he brought his hand down a bow and a quiver full of arrows were in it. He nocked an arrow and aimed it at Bellatrix. "Run, demoness, run hard and fast, and give my Hunt sport for this Samhain night."

Bellatrix bit her lip, looking around at the transfigured faces. Her eyes darted from one to the next, paling as she went around the circle. She howled and took a running leap over the head of a leering leprechaun. The Hunt, led by Gwynn ap Nudd, gave her a minute's head-start and then rushed after her, the Hounds baying at her heels as she ran into the gardens. Everyone left shifted on their feet, looking everywhere but at each other.

Titania gazed at the guests remaining within the ballroom, her icy demeanour becoming lighter. "My dear guests, please do not be alarmed. My dark liege must do as he is bound, as is his Hunt. But you here are our guests, invited to partake of our largesse on this Samhain night." She clapped her hands and called for the musicians to resume playing, which they did with a spritely promenade. "You are blest this night to be safe and protected. Dance, make merry, and enjoy the fruits of your harvest!" The music swelled and couples began pairing off to join the dance.

~ OoO ~

Just before midnight, the Wild Hunt returned, the Hounds' tongues hanging out of their mouths in canine grins of satisfaction. The creatures of the Hunt bowed to Titania and lost their otherworldly magic, becoming only witches and wizards in disguise once more. The last to pass back into the ballroom, Gwynn ap Nudd stood in the middle of the garden doorway, surveying everyone and everything within.

He nodded to his fairy queen and in the blink of an eye, he was once more Lucius Malfoy dressed as the Wild Huntsman, surrounded by his house-elves. Narcissa sat on her throne, delicately shivering as Titania left her body. She watched Lucius navigate the dance floor, noting not a hair was out of place nor a sign visible of what he as Gwynn ap Nudd had been up to.

He approached the dais and gave her a courtly bow. "Would you grant me a dance, my lady?" He held out his hand, a smile lurking in his bright eyes.

"I would love to dance with you, my liege." Narcissa stood up and stepped lightly down the stairs and into Lucius' arms. They spun through the figures of the promenade, smiling and nodding to the guests. Finally the music changed and they walked arm-in-arm around the edges of the ballroom.

"Do you think they'll remember what happened, Lucius?" Narcissa asked softly.

He shook his head. "No, my queen. Gwynn ap Nudd told me tonight's magic would make it dream for all of us." He looked at Hermione Granger talking animatedly with Harry Potter, the young man's leafy-green arm around Draco's waist. "He will make a dream of change for us all." He looked down at Narcissa and smirked. "It will live on in my dreams, my Narcissa, how regal you were as a host to the fairy queen."

"And I will enjoy the memory as well, Lucius, of you as the dread leader of the Wild Hunt." She cast a coquettish glance up at her husband. "Although, if you decide to hunt me this night, I may let you catch me..." Narcissa slipped out of his arms and ran toward the bonfires in the garden, calling back over her shoulder, "Catch me if you can, my dark liege!" Lucius took off after her, laughing heartily.

A druid and a hag began intoning a Samhain prayer and then were joined by several others:

> This is the night when the gateway between our world and the spirit world is thinnest.  
>  Tonight is a night to call out those who came before.  
>  Tonight I honor my ancestors.  
>  Spirits of my fathers and mothers, I call to you, and welcome you to join me for this night.  
>  You watch over me always, protecting and guiding me, and tonight I thank you.  
>  Your blood runs in my veins.  
>  Your spirit is in my heart.  
>  Your memories are in my soul.  
>  With the gift of remembrance, I remember all of you.  
>  You are dead but never forgotten, and you live on within me, and within those who are yet to come.

The other guests trickled out of the ballroom and toward the fires, the old Samhain rites of jumping the fire to handfast for a year and a day being enacted by some (Remus and Severus) while others (Harry and Draco, Ron and Astoria, Hermione and Blaise) merely slipped way into the darkness to celebrate the end of the season in other, more sensuous ways.

~ OoO ~

In the morning, the overnight guests met during breakfast, some blushing at others' knowing glances while still others tittered and whispered amongst themselves.

Lucius surveyed his home, seeing it with different eyes. He saw the blood spilled over the ages, but he also felt the cleansing of the evil due to Gwynn ap Nudd's presence the night before. He saw his son more grounded, and now blessed, by Puck's earthy magic. His wife, beautiful as ever, was presiding over the other end of the breakfast table, charming Severus and his mate even as she kept an eye on the rest of the guests. Lucius nodded to the house-elves ranged around the room, a touch of respect in the tilt of head that they acknowledged with bright eyes and restrained smiles.

He patted the envelope hidden in his pocket and smirked. He'd have to show his almost-son-in-law the list when everyone else had departed. Even he hadn't known who was to get what costume for the masquerade.

"...Skeeter's missing." Lucius shared a look with Harry Potter as he spoke to Narcissa. "Which is just good riddance to bad rubbish as far as I'm concerned."

"Too true, Auror Potter," Lucius interjected from his end of the table.

"Call me Harry, sir. All my friends and family do." 

And so the conversation at table went, guests coming and going, adding their impressions and good wishes until only the Malfoys, Severus and Remus, and Harry were left.

"So..." Harry said wonderingly. "Any theories?" he asked.

"Skeeter always wanted the inside scoop. She more than likely offered to sell her soul for dirt on the Malfoys," Draco said. He gestured with his coffee cup. "If she was possessed that explains how she got an invitation."

"Well, she's gone, for a very long time, I hope." Narcissa patted her lips and set her napkin to the side of her plate. "It will be a better world without her muckraking."

Severus huffed out a chuckle. "Muckraking doesn't need Rita Skeeter to thrive, but without her, it will take more time to be dirtier and meaner. People won't have to live in fear of her anymore."

"Too right, Severus." Remus leaned forward and snagged the last bit of toast from Severus' plate. "I had a lovely talk with a Swan Maiden before all the spirits disappeared back to their realm. She said that this celebration had played host to Nike, the goddess of Victory, and we were insured time to enjoy that victory in peace."

Draco raised his glass of pumpkin juice and called for a toast. "To peace, to promises kept, and to my parents, may they enjoy the fruits of their harvest for many years to come!" There was a round of 'hear, hear' and 'well done, Draco' and then everyone raised their glasses as well.

Lucius thanked Draco for the sentiment, wondering aloud how his son knew he would soon _not_ be an only child—to Narcissa's eye-rolling shame—and toasted his family. "To you all, heroes everyone of you. Without you all, I would be nothing. I thank you for your courage and kindness." They drank. The house-elves fell over themselves to be of service. Malfoy Manor rang with laughter.

In the garden, near a blasted statue of a woman—she was missing one arm and her head—a pair of mischievous eyes sparkled before fading away with the sound of delighted laughter on the morning breeze.

~ Finis ~

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment here or at [Livejournal](http://hp-darkarts.livejournal.com/113233.html)
> 
>  **Original prompts**  
>  #18  
>  **Prompter:**  
>  **Prompt:** The Malfoys are hosting a costumed Halloween party. Everybody has to wear a costume. The problem is that the costumes have been hexed so that its wearer becomes what they're wearing. For example, someone wearing a vampire costume becomes a vampire. Inspired by a Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode.  
>  **Suggested Character(s)/Pairings:** Any characters as long as the Malfoys are involved.  
>  **Any optional extras:** Lots and lots of chaos. Could be a mystery type horror story as well as in "who jinxed the costumes and why?"
> 
>  
> 
> Research  
> 1\. Costume Characters  
> a. Gwynn ap Nudd, followed by his red-eared white hounds ~ Lucius, and the Malfoy house-elves  
> b. Fairy Queen - In Shakespeare's play, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Titania is the queen of the fairies. Later fiction also used the name Titania for fairy queen characters. In traditional folklore, the fairy queen has no name. ~ Narcissa Malfoy  
> c. Nike (Roman: Victoria; Winged Victory) ~ Pansy Parkinson  
> d. Fionnuala - a swan maiden (Swan Animagus with Swan feathers on her shoulders) in Celtic mythology ~ Ginny Weasley  
> e. Incubus ~ Blaise Zabini  
> f. Selkie - (silkies or selchies) Found in Faroese, Icelandic, Irish, and Scottish folklore. They can shed their skin from seals to become humans ~ Remus Lupin  
> g. Puck - A mythological fairy or mischievous nature sprite. Puck is also a generalised personification of land spirits. He is sometimes also considered hob and Will-o'-the-wisp. ~ Harry Potter  
> h. ghost!Albus Dumbledore ~ Severus Snape  
> i. Morgan Le Faye ~ Minerva McGonagall  
> j. Salazar Slytherin ~ Draco Malfoy  
> k. Godric Gryffindor ~ Bill Weasley  
> l. Rowena Ravenclaw ~ Rita Skeeter  
> m. Helga Hufflepuff ~ Molly Weasley  
> n. Green Knight ~ Kingsley Shacklebolt  
> o. Redcap - (powrie or dunter) A type of malevolent murderous dwarf, goblin, elf or fairy found in Border Folklore. They are said to inhabit ruined castles found along the border between England and Scotland.~ Colin Creevy  
> p. Naiad - (Naiade) In Greek mythology, a type of nymph who presided over fountains, wells, springs, streams, and brooks. ~ Astoria Greengrass  
> q. Lorelei - A beautiful Rhine maiden who sat upon a rock on the eastern bank of the Rhine near St. Goarshausen, Germany and lured passing navigators to their doom with her alluring singing. ~ Fleur Weasley  
> r. Púca - Old Irish for ghost. (Pwwka, Pooka, Puka, Phouka, Púka, Pwca in Welsh, Bucca in Cornish, Pouque in Dgèrnésiais, Puca or Puck in English, Glashtyn, and Gruagach) A creature of Celtic folklore, notably in Ireland, the West of Scotland, and Wales. The púca is a deft shape shifter, capable of assuming a variety of terrifying or pleasing forms, and may appear as a horse, rabbit, goat, goblin, or dog. ~ Ron Weasley  
> s. Kelpie - A supernatural water horse from Celtic folklore that is believed to haunt the rivers and lochs of Scotland and Ireland. ~ Arthur Weasley  
> t. Hecate ~ Hermione Granger
> 
> 2\. A Samhain prayer to the ancestors found [](http://gotireland.com)here.
> 
> This is the night when the gateway between our world and the spirit world is thinnest.  
> Tonight is a night to call out those who came before.  
> Tonight I honor my ancestors.  
> Spirits of my fathers and mothers, I call to you, and welcome you to join me for this night.  
> You watch over me always, protecting and guiding me, and tonight I thank you.  
> Your blood runs in my veins.  
> Your spirit is in my heart.  
> Your memories are in my soul.  
> With the gift of remembrance, I remember all of you.  
> You are dead but never forgotten, and you live on within me, and within those who are yet to come.
> 
> 3\. A. [Malfoy Manor tour @ Brutus_the_Bold's LJ](http://brutus-the-bold.livejournal.com/3720.html)  
> B. [Floor plans: Ground Floor and First Floor of Malfoy Manor @ Brutus_the_Bold's LJ](http://brutus-the-bold.livejournal.com/1632.html)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> **  
> References  
>   
> [Dark Fairies - The Best of Fairy Folklore & Legends [compilation]](http://www.squidoo.com/dark-fairies)
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://www.irosf.com/q/zine/article/10127>Ladies%20of%20the%20Darkness%20by%20Lezlie%20Kinyon%20%5Bessay%5D%20%C2%A9%202005</a>%0A%0A<a%20href=http://www.canonfire.com/wiki/index.php?title=%20Fionnghuala>Fionnghuala%20\(game%20character\)/%20Fionnuala%20</a>)


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